


Together

by SophieRomanoff97



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Awesome Clint Barton, Awesome Laura Barton, Awesome Natasha Romanov, Bisexual Laura Barton, Bisexual Natasha Romanov, Blood, Clint Barton Feels, Clint and Laura Barton's Family, F/F, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Gunshot Wounds, Hurt Natasha Romanov, Hurt/Comfort, Medical stuff, Multi, Natasha Romanov Feels, Natasha Romanov Is Not A Robot, Past Bucky Barnes/Natasha Romanov, Polyamorous Character, Polyamory, Pre-Avengers (2012), Protective Clint Barton, Protective Laura Barton, Red Room (Marvel), Stitches, Threesome - F/F/M, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, another brief mention, brief mentions of bucky - Freeform, hints at past buckynat (not relationship but them knowing each other), post-odessa
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:34:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18770359
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SophieRomanoff97/pseuds/SophieRomanoff97
Summary: Established Clint/Nat/LauraClint brings Natasha home after the events of Odessa go down. They think she's just lost in her head after recognizing James, but it turns out she's been shot and kept quiet about it. Clint and Laura help patch her up.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Should I be writing another fic? no, probably not but oh well. Reaaalllly in the polyam mood today and I haven't written these three in a while and I love them. 
> 
> For the sake of the fic, let's just say that getting from Odessa to the farm takes like thirty minutes in their super special Shield jet. (please just go with it!) Also, I took some liberties with the medical stuff here, I realize that's probably not how bullet wounds work but again, please go with it :)
> 
> TW's for blood, gun shot wounds, medically stuff.

"Okay, love, just a couple more steps." Clint murmured, keeping a tight grip around Natasha's middle as he helped her up the steps of the farm house. The jet took off from the ground, quietly shooting back up into the air.

Luckily Clint didn't end up having to struggle with the door because as soon as they reached the top step, the door was being pulled open and Laura was rushing out to help take the redhead's weight. They were still dripping with ocean water so everything was already more difficult.

"You didn't check in," the brunette said quietly as they managed to pull Natasha into the living room, carefully lowering her into the nearest chair.

"I'm sorry, it was crazy." Clint murmured, crouching in front of Natasha, the woman slumped against the back of the chair, her gaze glazed and staring at nothing.

"We came straight here as soon as we finished up." The archer flicked his gaze from Laura to the trembling redhead.

"How bad is it?" Laura asked quietly, her fingers pushing sweaty red strands of hair of the woman's forehead.

Clint shook his head, "don't know. She wouldn't let me take her in, she wouldn't speak to me but started to panic when I put in the hospital coordinates. So we come home."

Laura frowned and brushed her fingers over Natasha's forehead as Clint managed to catch her wandering gaze.

"Nat, I need you to tell me if you're hurt so I can fix it." He murmured, hand resting on her knee. "I know words might be hard, can you sign it or point to it? Or do you just need some time?"

Instead of answering, Natasha just blinked at him. That was how the archer realised what was about to happen a second before it did.

"Laura, I need you to...shit." he struggled to keep a hold on Natasha as her eyes rolled back and she slumped forward against him.

Laura knelt quickly, catching Natasha's shoulders and narrowly avoiding her smacking her head off the floor.

"Nat?" Clint whispered, maneuvering so the woman was resting against Laura. He pressed two fingers against her neck, jaw clenching.

"Dammit she is hurt, we need to find out where and..." Clint trailed off, staring at Laura, whose legs were splattered with bright red.

Natasha's head rested limply against Laura's shoulder, the women back to back. Clint followed the blood splatters, reaching out to press his hand against her left side. His fingers came away coated in red.

"Fuck," he cursed, "why didn't she tell me?" He looked up, face hardening. "Okay, we need to get her over to the couch." He clambered up from his knees and very carefully lifted Natasha from off of Laura and into his arms.

The brunette stood quickly, "what do you need?"

"Towels, water, the med kit." Clint moved to the couch, kicking the cushions out the way and lowering Natasha down.

Laura was back then, dropping the items beside Clint, standing at Natasha's head. "Clint?"

The archer didn't answer, fingers tearing through the hole in the cat suit that he somehow hadn't fucking noticed before.

His hands slipped in the blood as he pulled the material away, it took him a few seconds to even spot the wound but when he did-

"Fucking hell." he cursed. She'd been shot. Goddamn _shot_ and she hadn't said a word about it.

"Jesus," Laura breathed, "should I call Nick?"

"Phil. Call Phil and tell him we might need his help." Clint said quietly, grabbing one of the towels and pressing it to the wound. Natasha didn't stir.

Moving quickly, he rolled Natasha to the side a little, just enough so that he could see her back.

"Okay, the bullet's not in there. It must...oh fuck, Nat." The whole mission had been a blur. One second he and Natasha had been covering the engineer and the next Clint knew, the man was dead and Natasha was chasing the man in the mask.

But Clint had only heard one shot fired and judging by the fact the bullet wasn't lodged in her side, the man had shot _through_ her to get to the engineer.

Fucking shit.

She should have been bleeding more. A lot more. But instead there was barely any blood on her back and the stuff covering his hands was relatively tame compared to how usual bullet wounds bled.

Uncapping a syringe from the med bag, he carefully slid the needle as close to the wound as he could get, depressing the plunger. They couldn't afford to wait too long for the anesthetic to work but he wasn't about to going probing without some meds in her.

Frowning, he rifled through the med kit, grabbing the penlight and the tweezers. "Laura, I need you to hold the light and shine it on the wound, get as close as you can without getting in the way of my hand."

Laura nodded, kneeling and carefully holding out the light.

Tweezers in hand, Clint squinted, wiping away drops of blood from around the wound. He wasn't entirely sure what he was looking for until he found it- a piece of something shiny lodged inside the wound.

"It must be blocking the blood flow, it's keeping most of the blood from flooding out." Clint swallowed, anxiously chewing his lip for a moment. Obviously, he couldn't just leave the bullet fragment in there but it was also saving her life.

He didn't want to think about what damage had been done inside.

"We need to get the shard out. But after I do that, she's going to bleed. A lot. And it's a difficult wound to stitch up, that's also not counting that we don't know how badly the inside of her is damaged. Fuck, I am not a damn surgeon."

Laura reached out, fingers skimming over his hair and settling at the nape of his neck. "You've got this. We've got this. Phil's got us if we need him."

"Right. Right," Clint nodded, swallowing thickly. "What we need to do before I go digging is set up an IV and make sure we have enough of her blood on hand in case it's needed."

Yeah, it was probably crazy that they just happened to have blood laying around but they were agents and spies and into dangerous shit so really it made sense to keep some of their own blood on hand.

"I'll get the blood, you do the needle." Laura squeezed his shoulder and stood, moving quickly.

After sterilizing everything as best as he could, Clint carefully slid the needle into the back of Natasha's hand, struggling a little to find a vein before he got it into the right place.

He taped the tube down and then tested the longer tube before sliding that into place too. By the time he'd finished, Laura had come back.

"We don't want to give her the blood yet but as soon as we need it, it has to be ready. You know how to attach the tube to the bag and where to hang it?"

Laura nodded, face a little pale but determined.

"Okay, let's do this." Clint breathed after quickly shoving some gloves onto his hands.

Laura held the penlight again as Clint gently slid the tweezers into the wound.

It took almost five minutes of pulling and prodding but finally he had the piece carefully in the grasp of the tweezers. And holy shit, thank God Nat wasn't awake for what was coming next.

Gritting his teeth, Clint twisted and turned the piece so it would do the least amount of damage possible as he ever so gently began to pull.

Blood immediately began to bubble up and pulse out around his fingers as he agonizingly slowly slid the bullet fragment out of his partner's body.

The amount of blood was worrying but he couldn't afford to go quickly, he could do more harm than good that way.

With her free hand, Laura pressed a towel underneath the wound, collecting as much blood as possible, paling further as the cloth got wetter and heavier with Natasha's blood.

And then finally the shard was out and Clint was grabbing another towel, pressing all his weight down onto it and Natasha's side.

"You're doing great, Laura, but now I really need you to sit at her head for me, press your fingers to her neck like I did earlier and tell me how her pulse feels." Clint nodded at her, already switching out another towel. If he could just get the flow to stop a little, he could figure out if she needed a hospital (if there was inside damage) or if he could handle it.

At Natasha's head, Laura's trembling fingers pressed against her pulse point.

"Just there," Clint nodded again, "I need to know how fast or slow, if it's regular or skipping, if it's strong or weak." He smiled encouragingly as he pressed against the woman's side.

"F...fast. Um regular, I think, not skipping. Weak, fluttering kind of." Laura pulled her gaze from her girlfriend's pale face and over at Clint.

"Okay, keep measuring and tell me if anything at all changes." If her heartbeat was already weak, he couldn't afford to waste more time pressing down and hoping the flow would slow down.

He peeled back the towel and apologizing to no one in particular as he jammed his finger into the wound to feel around.

_Please, please, please, please._

He couldn't feel any damage outright but that didn't mean it wasn't there. He couldn't fully trust his own expertise, or lack of, rather.

"We need to call Phil. I can stitch her up but she's going to need scans to see if there's something’s going on that I can't see."

One hand still taking Natasha's pulse, Laura pressed the phone to her ear with the other. "Phil."

"Okay, tell him that he needs to get a jet here and needs to prep the hospital for her coming in. We need surgeons to stand by in case and we need the scan room set up."

Laura relayed the information, nodding and dropping the phone. "He's coming as soon as he can."

As quickly as he could, Clint used saline to flush out the wound, dropping the equipment to the floor to be dealt with later. Then he began the stitches, going as fast as he could whilst still making sure that they were perfect.

Stitching, he was good at, and it was going well, despite the slickness of her blood making it more difficult. It was okay, it was fine, the jet would get there soon and the actual medics could take over, he just had to finish with the-

“ _Clint-_ “ Laura’s soft choke of his name pulled him from his work.

“What?” He didn’t wait for an answer, blood coated fingers turning her wrist around, pressing against the pulse point. _Skipping_.

Not only that, but Natasha was gasping now, pulling in rapid, shallow, frantic breaths.

“Attach the blood, squeeze the bag to get it going. Put some of the cushions under her feet.” Clint swallowed, pulling his hand from her wrist to continue the stitches.

Laura moved around him, doing exactly as he instructed. Once the last cushion was under the woman’s ankles, the brunette dropped to her knees to dig around in the med bag. “Where’s the oxygen mask?”

_Shit._

Clint was damn lucky Laura was with him. He should have thought about that.

“Different bag, it’s under the bed, bring the whole orange bag with you.” Clint instructed, carefully tying off the last of the stitches at her front. Next, he rolled her a little and started on the back wound, trying to ignore every frantic inhale coming from his partner.

It would be fine. It would be fine. There was no internal damage, Clint was just being cautious. They’d take her in and do the scans and she would be okay. She’d sleep off the worst of the shock in a hospital bed, wait till her numbers were better and then she would come home to recover.

It would be fine.

“Clint, how’re we doing?” Laura asked, slightly breathless as she pulled the orange bag open and found what she was after. It was more of a suitcase, since it had to carry both an oxygen tank and a defibrillator.

Turning the tank on, Laura gently slid the mask over Natasha’s mouth and nose, lifting her head to slide the strap down into place.

“Good, we’re doing good,” Clint murmured, “almost there. Pulse?”

“No better, no worse.” Laura said quietly and that was probably the best they could have hoped for.

“Do we have an ETA on Phil?” Clint glanced up from his last couple of stitches.

“Couple of minutes.” Laura said softly, absently stroking over Natasha’s hair. “Should we grab some of her stuff?”

“Oh yeah, yeah that’s a good idea. You’re an angel.” Clint offered a weak smile as Laura rushed upstairs again, this time to pack a bag for them all, since none of them would be leaving the hospital until Nat could come home.

Clint tied off the stitches and sat back on his heels, turning her wrist over again. No better, no worse. But she wasn’t bleeding and there were no signs of bruising or warmth in her abdomen or side, so hopefully they were through the worst of it.

Taking a breath, he slid his fingers down until he could wrap them around her hand. He dropped his forehead to their clasped grip, closing his eyes. A minute later Laura joined them. Placing her hand over theirs and leaning her head against Clint’s shoulder as they waited for the jet to arrive.

“She’ll be fine,” Laura murmured, “She’s always fine.”

…

Laura was right. She was always right.

They got to the hospital in one piece, Nat no better or worse still. The scans revealed absolutely nothing internal and just as Clint had thought, they set her up in a room with a far more professional IV giving her blood and nutrients.

Laura covered the woman with blankets, tenderly adjusted the oxygen tube under Natasha’s nose and slumping down besides Clint, hand in hand.

Over the next few hours, no better and no worse turned into slightly better, then just better. Not perfect, but better.

Natasha went from passed out to sleeping restlessly, turning and moaning softly under her breath, whimpers and Russian swears caught on her tongue.

The nightmares were about him, about The Winter Soldier, but Clint and Laura knew that, and they were well prepared for what was to come. They would help Nat get through it, like they always had done and always will.

…

The next morning, Clint woke to a finger jabbing into his temple and a rough murmur of his name.

When he looked up from where he’d fallen asleep, tangled with Laura, both of them half resting on the side of the bed, he saw a bleary eyed Natasha watching them, her lips pulled into a small frown and the middle of her brows crinkled.

“Nat-“ He breathed.

Laura’s head jerked up from the bed, “what?” She blinked, taking a second to right herself. When she saw Natasha watching them, her face lit up, though her eyes were watery.

“Fucking hell, Nat.” And shit it was serious if Laura was swearing.

“Nah, I don’t think this hell. Can’t be hell if you two are here.” Natasha said quietly, her voice scratchy and hoarse but the absolute best sound in the world to the other two. She blinked, still looking drowsy as she rubbed a hand over her forehead. “What happened?”

Clint swallowed, reaching to take her hand. “What do you remember?”

“I…remember the car going off the cliff. Us pulling the engineer out. Pain. I don’t-“ Her eyes widened, the green orbs filling with tears. “It was him. It was him.” She whispered brokenly.

Laura was up and out of her seat then, sidling over to Nat’s good side, helping the woman shuffle closer to the other side of the bed. She then kicked her shoes off and carefully lay down beside Natasha. She pulled the redhead to her chest, pressing a kiss to her hair.

Clint watched, his own eyes burning as the two people he loved most in the world settled together on the bed. The bed was big, but not that big so he just pulled his chair as close as it would get, resting one hand on Nat’s thigh and the other one Laura’s hip.

“We’ll figure it out, Nat.” He said firmly. “I promise.”

Natasha sniffled, her cheeks wet. “It was James.” She whimpered, squeezing her eyes shut. “He’s back.”

“He’s back and we’ll find him,” Laura murmured, stroking her fingers through the woman’s hair, “together.”

Clint nodded, eyes determined. “He’s not going to disappear this time.”

Natasha swallowed, pulling in a shaky breath and nodding her head. “Okay. Okay.” She murmured, voice wavering. She was blinking tiredly and Clint reached as close as he could, brushing his thumb over her cheek.

“Go to sleep, Firebird. We’ve got you. You’re not alone.” He smiled reassuringly, feeling Laura’s soft gaze watching the interaction.

“We’ve got you.” The brunette affirmed, resting her cheek against Nat’s head.

Humming softly, Natasha curled into Laura, hand sliding down to grab Clint’s. Her face quickly softened with sleep and Laura and Clint shared a smile.

Natasha was okay. She was okay.

Maybe it was time they started really looking into the whole family thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ALSO hi yes can I be Laura please 🙃
> 
> Epilogue coming soon❤


	2. Chapter 2

"Okay, nice and slow." Laura murmured to Nat as Clint went ahead to unlock the door, the women carefully climbing up the steps.

Natasha had stayed in hospital for three days, mainly just for observation and so she could finish the course of blood and get her numbers up.

Laura and Clint had stayed the whole time. They slept on cots beside Nat's bed, showered there, ate at the canteen.

Nat was a notoriously bad patient and before the first day was even over, she was itching to get home.

Obviously, she couldn't go home, so the other two tried to entertain her as much as they could.

They played endless rounds of cards, watched at least two whole shows in no time at all, re-told stories from their earlier days. The late night talks had been Natasha's favourite.

They were the deep, long, open talks that lasted forever. The talks Natasha had thought she would never be able to experience, thinking she would never be able to be that vulnerable with anyone.

They spoke about renewing their vows, maybe even saying fuck it and going to Vegas. They talked about James and Nat's fears, diving back into the past that she'd refused to open up about for so long. And then, somehow, they were onto potential kid names.

Laura argued that there was no way Clint was going to name any child Bow. "I know you liked She-Ra and I know it's like...your thing, but not a chance in hell."

Clint pouted and looked over at the redhead. "Nat? Bow?"

The redhead's lips curled up. "Sorry, dude, not happening. Otherwise I'd get to call our kid...gun or bites or something equally as ridiculous."

Clint pouted even more. "Okay, what do you guys suggest?"

Natasha's smile had dropped a little as she was asked and she looked down at her hands.

"Baby?" Laura asked softly, running her fingers through her hair.

"I...It's completely fine if you say no and I get it and it's not like we're pregnant yet or anything but...Lila?" She slowly looked up from her hands, eyes unreadable.

Clint's face softened and he didn't need to see Laura's to know what their answer would be.

"Lila is a beautiful name. It's perfect." The archer nodded, reaching for her hand.

Natasha swallowed thickly, eyes shining. "Really?"

"Really." Laura affirmed. "I think...I think your mother would like that very much."

Natasha let out a breath, sniffling delicately. "She would."

"If we have a girl." Clint hummed.

"Oh, we're definitely having a girl. You watch, you'll be outnumbered even more." Laura teased.

Natasha smiled, leaning her head against Laura's shoulder. "Are we really going to do this?" She asked softly.

Clint and Laura locked gazes before turning them on Nat.

"I think we are." Clint smiled.

"We definitely are.'' Laura breathed.

Natasha grinned, closing her eyes for a second.

Kids. A family. Happiness.

Who would've thought.

...

The pair helped Natasha over to the couch, since she was sick of being in a bed.

Sighing softly, the redhead leaned back against the cushions, letting out a shaky breath.

"Okay?" Clint asked softly.

"Mm. Just pulled it a little." She said quietly, face pale.

Checking the clock on the wall, the archer rummaged in his jacket pocket until he could pull out the white bag of meds.

"It's nearly time, love, we just have to get you something to eat first." They didn't want to make that mistake again. Natasha had been throwing up and miserable for hours last time she hadn't had them with food.

"Already on it." Laura called from the kitchen. "Pasta sound good?"

Nat almost groaned. "Hell yes."

It had only been three days but they'd all had their fill of hospital food.

Leaning down, Clint kissed Nat's temple. "I'm going to sort out a couple of things. Once the meds have kicked in, you want to shower? We can put the bench out and me or Lor can help you."

"Yes, please. I am...disgusting right now." Natasha shook her head.

"You are not. You're perfect." Clint grinned.

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Go on, go do what you need to do." She smirked.

"Okay, but I'll miss you." Clint teased.

"Sure you will, love." Natasha snorted. "Go, be a menace somewhere else."

"I will go be a menace somewhere else. Only 'cause I love you so much."

"Go!" Natasha grinned, watching as Clint blew her a kiss and stepped out the room.

Dork. Such a dork.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love a good epilogue so here we go. Part 1 of two cause I have no self control. Please leave a comment if you enjoyed? Thanks for reading <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the final chapter! I love writing these three and will definitely do more in the future. Sorry it's a little short but I hope it suffices.

After the three had eaten dinner, a very delicious pasta with Laura's homemade sauce, Natasha was seriously flagging.

It was often the same every time Natasha got hurt. When the injury was new, she could power on for hours or even days after she'd received it, even if she was in serious danger of passing out or dying. But then, when the injury had been fixed and she was healing, it was as if her body finally told her that enough was enough. If she didn't fucking take it easy, it would make things very difficult for her.

It was like a fog washing over her. She got exhausted, overwhelmed, the pain felt worse, felt like needles digging into her skin. She had trouble walking, sometimes speaking, communicating. 

For those bad times, Clint and Natasha had devised a sort of plan. Sometimes, signing was easier than talking but when using her hands was still too much, Natasha would use blinked Morse code if she needed to communicate something big. If it was yes or no or could she have a drink etc, Clint and Laura were pretty apt at being able to tell by head gestures or taps or points.

This time, though Natasha was exhausted, she could semi-talk. It meant her words were a little slurred and sometimes she struggled to get words out but she could communicate fairly well. 

She currently sat sandwiched in the middle of the other two, a half empty bowl of pasta on her lap.

It was clear Natasha was done so Laura carefully stacked the plates up on the table to be dealt with later. 

They let the redhead sit after her food for about half an hour, as a comedy they'd all seen before played in the background.

When Natasha felt able, she tapped at Laura's shoulder, tired eyes flicking from the screen.

"You ready to shower, love? And we can get you your meds now." The brunette asked, tucking a strand of hair behind Nat's ear.

Natasha hummed softly, nodding. "Don't want to but need to." She murmured.

Clint gently rubbed a hand up her back. "You'll feel better after it, Tash." He said softly.

Offering a weak smile, the woman nodded. "I know. It's just getting there." 

"We got this, baby." Laura hummed, squeezing one of Natasha's hands. 

"We're here to help. You don't have to do any of this alone." Clint smiled softly.

"I know." The redhead sighed, rubbing at her forehead. "Okay. Let's do this."

...

The shower was difficult, that was for sure. But it also wasn't something new. They'd done it a whole lot of times. Whether it was Natasha and Clint getting injured on missions or one of them being sick or that time Laura broke her ankle. They had the art of showering down to perfection.

Natasha and Laura were in and out of the shower in ten minutes with Nat squeaky clean and with her previously tangled hair clean and smooth and blood free.

Laura had also perfected helping out without getting herself wet, which had taken a surprisingly long time to figure out. 

But since having bought the shower bench and adjusting the shower so the head was detachable, things went a lot smoother for all of them.

Now Natasha was wrapped up in a big towel, perched on the edge of the bed. Laura was carefully brushing the woman's hair, drying it as much as she could with the towel since the hair dryer would probably overwhelm Natasha's senses. Clint was moving around the room collecting her softest night clothes, which usually always consisted of sleep shorts and one of the archer's shirts.

Natasha had crossed the threshold to practically non-verbal, exhausted after her shower and barely able to keep herself awake.

Clint and Laura worked quickly, in perfect harmony. They helped Natasha get dressed, finished with her hair and got the woman all tucked up into bed.

It wasn't early but it certainly wasn't their usual bedtime so instead of getting ready to go to sleep with Natasha or heading back downstairs, they climbed under the covers and turned the TV on low. They wrapped their bodies around their wounded firebird, brushing over her hair, stroking over sensitive skin, offering soft words of encouragement, comfort and love.

They talked quietly as Natasha started to drift, curled up in between her two loves. She was safe, loved, wanted, home.

Alive. 

And there was so much more life to live.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. PS a comment would make for a very happy writer. Until next time! <3


End file.
